The Waves Creep Up on the Shore
by thegoofybookworm
Summary: "I'd be a ruthless liar if I denied having ever admired Finnick from a distance. It was hard not to; out of all the boys around my age, he was the one with the most amazing eyes. " Rated T for author paranoia *probably actually around K * R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

**Finnick**

It was the night of the District 4 celebration for my homecoming. I wasn't the first victor from our district by the sea, for sure—being a part of the Career pack every year made certain that our victor pool was vast—but I had very little competition for the best looking.

I was fourteen, an age most people think is way too young to know what love is. And maybe I was, because that was definitely not the age when I realized I was in love. I was one of the youngest victors, even more celebrated by the glorious trident I'd been given in the arena, undoubtedly one of the most expensive gifts the Capitol had ever seen. I was with a girl—Star, or Seaweed, or some name that gave away her home district—when I first ran into Annie. Star/Seaweed had been pining after me for a while before the reaping, and honestly she wasn't hard to notice, herself. She had bright red hair, wide green eyes, and a dazzling smile that tied to her name perfectly—oops, guess her name _was_ Star.

I had taken Star out to the pier, like all the boys did when they wanted to kiss a girl. I'd been very nervous, because I had no idea if Star would let me kiss her, and it was, after all, my first kiss. Looking how I looked, it would be horrible to be shot down. So we sat on the bench facing the sea, just listening to the waves for a while, before I took her hand in mine and leaned in.

"I caught one, daddy! I caught one!"

I jumped up, surprised. Star scoffed at me like I was the biggest idiot for not actually kissing her, and walked away from me, muttering how victors always were a little wrong in the head. I ran to follow her, skipping down the steps to the beach, where she was headed towards the huge white tent where the celebration was being held. Not far away, I could just make out two figures by the shore, along with what must've been their fishing poles. A girl, slightly smaller than myself, was standing next to who I assumed was her father. Oliver Cresta was a tall man with salt and pepper hair, shortly cropped all-year round—though you wouldn't know it, since he had a habit of always wearing his fisherman hat—and he was one of the local fishermen.

The bells on their fishing poles were ringing wildly, especially hers, as she tried reeling it in. Finally, Oliver set down his own pole and helped the girl with hers, as she stood by, laughing and pointing with the utmost joy at the water, where I could just barely see a medium-sized fish getting dragged out by the hook. She squealed with joy, her long dark hair swinging around her in the cool salty breeze. She jumped up and down as he set it in the bucket, then leaned in to see what she'd caught.

_Well, at least _she_ caught something!_ I thought angrily as I kicked up sand and marched down to the shore. Oliver turned to me, smiling, and I think he might've been greeting me. Not that it mattered, because I got right on the defensive. "Seriously? You get all excited for _that_ tiny fish?" I demanded, hands clenched into fists by my sides.

"Hey, wait—" Oliver started to say, as he pulled his daughter closer to him protectively.

"No! I had a chance of kissing this _amazing_ girl," I went on furiously, "and you, with your squealing and your excitement, _you_ drove her away!" I kicked up some more sand before turning around to leave. I could just barely hear the girl sniffling as I marched my way back to the white tent.

**Annie**

I never knew why I'd made him so angry in the first place. It was my father's first time taking me fishing since my mom died, and I was ecstatic, because we'd never actually been that close. It had always been just my mom and me, and, when she passed away, just me. My dad was there all the time, of course, but we'd never really connected until he found out I was a pretty good aimer with my fishing pole. After that, we'd always make plans to go fishing, but it turns out that the one night we were both free happened to be the same night of Finnick's homecoming party.

I'd be a ruthless liar if I denied having ever admired Finnick from a distance. It was hard not to; out of all the boys around my age, he was the one with the most amazing eyes. I didn't care much for face or body, because none of that really mattered. Nothing could remind me more of my mother than his sea-green eyes, the same color as the hue of the ocean in which she requested to be buried. For some people, being reminded of their lost loved ones is more a curse than a reassurance, but for me it's different. Maybe because my mother had always told me that, whenever she died, she would wait for me at the end of the horizon.

Of course, I never expected him to return my feelings. He was so good-looking, he was always with this girl, or that one, never lasting long in his relationships but always keeping his girl happy. I wanted him to be happy, too, so why force myself onto him? Besides, it's not like I ever really had a shot. I'd inherited my mother's green eyes and my father's dark hair, although the style in which I always carried it—my wavy locks loose around me, framing my face—was entirely my own. I knew I wasn't one of the ugliest girls, but I never seemed to meet Finnick's standards.

After the pier incident, I always wanted to apologize, but I never seemed to have the chance. Or, if I did, I never took it, for fear of being rejected or humiliated. Still, I had to figure out a way to make things right.

The first day back in school, I marched up to Star, who was, as usual, wearing one of her pretty turquoise dresses. Her hair was in a bun at the nape of her neck, and she was getting her books from her shelf, when I reached her. "Star, we need to talk," I told her firmly, hoping that she wouldn't say no.

She seemed startled, but nodded. "Sure," she replied. "What do you need?"

I took a deep breath before finally said, "I'm really sorry I made things between you and Finnick weird. I was out fishing with my dad, and I was just so happy that I caught a fish! Then Finnick came down, and he was _really_ angry with me for it. He yelled at us, saying that we ruined your kiss, and now—"

Star held up her hand, smiling at me. I stopped abruptly, surprised, before she explained, "It's okay. Finnick and I are done. Haven't you heard? He's with Shelly now." She gave me a tight-lipped smile as she tried to gauge my reaction, studying my face carefully as I spotted him a few yards away, weaving through the crowd, hand in hand with Shelly. Then Star widened her eyes, as if she just realized something—which she did. "Don't worry, Annie," she told me confidentially, in a low voice. "You're _way_ prettier than her. You'll have your chance." With that, she winked at me before quickly hurrying back to class.


	2. Chapter 2

**Finnick**

"What are you looking at?" Blue asked impatiently when I took her to my boat a few months after I'd come back as a victor. It was a Sunday, which meant that Oliver Cresta would be taking his daughter out fishing, as he often did those days. I was scanning the beach from a kilometer offshore, so it was kind of hard to tell, but Annie was one of the few people in 4 whose hair hadn't been lightened due to the excessive amount of sun we were exposed to, so it wouldn't be too difficult either.

"_What_. Are. You. Looking. At," Blue snapped, probably eager to set sail. I'd dropped the anchor an hour ago for lunch, and I'd even made it clear we'd be leaving at one. It was already one twenty, and Blue was just one of those people that freaks out if anything goes slightly wrong, or if anything is slightly delayed.

"Me?" I asked a bit too innocently; turning around so quickly that she took a step back in surprise. "Nothing in particular. Just trying to see where we should leave the boat for later." I took her hands, bringing her close to me as my arms circled around her waist.

She put her palms on my chest and pushed me away slightly, which annoyed me. A lot. "Not now, Finnick, I'm not in the mood for a kiss," she huffed, rolling her eyes. I wondered what I had been thinking when I invited Blue—the stuck-up class president of that year—to the boat. I definitely had plenty of options, so why had I settled for her?

_To test the waters, _the back of my mind whispered as I rubbed my smooth chin, with Blue swinging her legs over the edge of the boat. _To best a challenge. Idiot._ I shook my head, trying to get rid of the small voice inside. I knew it was right, of course. I wasn't really even that attracted to Blue in the first place. She had cold blue eyes, and extremely light golden hair that lay flat and tangled on her shoulders most days, looking greenish half the time because of all the time she spent swimming.

My eyes wandered off to the beach again, and suddenly I saw her. Annie stood next to the man I guessed again was her father, and her hair, braided down one shoulder, looked even darker in contrast to the other kids lined up at the shores. She was prettier up close, with light freckles dotting her cheekbones and her nose, long dark eyelashes, and full pink lips. I'd been around enough times to wonder if anyone's lips would be as good as those looked.

"Oh, just take a picture!" Blue snapped finally, pulling her dress over her head and revealing her underclothes as she jumped into the water. "It'll last longer!" By the way she dropped everything on the floor of the boat, I expected her to come swimming back after she was done paddling.

I had no idea why I was staring. Okay, I knew why I was staring. Anything would be more interesting than another dull conversation with Blue about how the Peacekeepers need to back off if they ever expect us to fulfill our fishing quota. But I had no idea why I was staring after _Annie_. Truth be told, there were prettier girls, and I knew that most of them would give an arm and leg to spend an afternoon fishing with me, or talking to me, or just standing behind me while I did all those things and more with some other girl.

See, that was the thing, I guess. Annie never really stared at me, or, if she did, she was very discreet about it. Whenever we had to talk, or bumped into each other in the hallways, she didn't get all tongue-tied, or nervous and overly chatty like the other girls did. She looked me right in the eyes, excused herself, and walked around me. Was I _that_ pathetic to cherish those small, short moments over possibly hours of sitting with the other girls? If so, I knew I was in trouble, because as much as I didn't want to pay attention to her, she didn't pay attention to me.

**Annie**

It was Finnick's seventeenth birthday, the second time I saw him. He was, for the first time in a long time, single. No surprise, there. He'd gone through practically every girl our age. Now word on the street was, he'd be catered off to the Capitol more often. It wasn't just a typical victor thing, either, because none of the other victors from 4 were summoned as often as he was.

My father and I were, as usual, in charge of bringing in the seafood for them. He was going all out with the party, and even I'd been invited, but I knew my father needed help now that his back wouldn't let him cast the line as far as he'd used to. Besides, when the time came to choose between staring mindlessly as Finnick hit on a round of girls that just never seemed to include me, or having fun fishing over and over again with my father, it was a safe bet that I'd smell like fish for the rest of the afternoon.

"Hey!" I heard from somewhere behind me as I hauled in another fishing net. I grunted involuntarily as I realized the load was heavier than I'd estimated, but soon enough two tanned, muscular arms were wrapped around me, helping me pull the net onto the pier. When the fish stopped resisting, I exhaled loudly and turned around, surprised to see it was Finnick who was standing by.

"Hi," I said, slightly startled. Why had he come all the way to the pier? Didn't he have a party to go to around that time? I looked down the beach and, soon enough, they were setting up another white tent not unlike the ones for the homecoming of the victors. I pointed that way. "Aren't you supposed to be helping out over there?" I asked, hiding my smile.

Finnick followed my gaze, and shrugged uncomfortably. "They don't miss me. There's plenty of volunteers helping to prep for a victor's birthday," he told me mischievously, which made me blush. He smiled. "Actually, I was going to ask what you were doing here by yourself? I mean, you know, I kind of guessed that you were fishing with your dad, but why don't you take a break, come check out the party after it starts?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, trying hard not to gape. Sure, I'd been invited—along with the rest of our school—to Finnick's party, but I seriously doubted that he'd extended personal invitations to all the girls. "Yeah, maybe I will. But first I need to finish off the fishing business," I said with a smirk. it was his turn to blush as he realized I already had plans of my own. I smiled sympathetically as he tried to make up for it.

"Oh, well, that's okay," he mumbled, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "When you get to the party, come get me personally." He squeezed my arm before taking off down the pier. I smiled to myself, unable to believe that Finnick Odair had taken the time to come invite me personally to his party.

I finally freed myself from fishing duties and changed into my nicest turquoise dress, and I'd even gone swimming earlier to find pearls to fasten onto my ears with small fishing hooks. I decided to add a bright purple wildflower growing by our small house into my hair, determined not to let Finnick down. I braided my hair down my shoulder on my way down the beach. When I reached the party scene, I was surprised to see so many familiar faces. Why? I had no idea.

"Annie!" Finnick exclaimed almost immediately, suddenly materializing by my side. He smiled at me and took me by the elbow, introducing me to a variety of people. It didn't seem to bother him to be seen with a fifteen-year-old.

Finally, when there seemed to be nobody else worth being introduced, he took me outside to the veranda of the tent. I couldn't believe it. There I was, standing in the pale moonlight with the most gorgeous boy in our district, as if it wasn't a big deal at all! I didn't even hesitate when he finally leaned in to kiss me, the feeling of his soft lips brushing against mine long overdue.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: What do you guys think so far? Should I continue? Review, if you please **


	3. Chapter 3

**Finnick**

The week before my first official trip to the Capitol for my new "job" was the week I decided to break up with Annie. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make—even to this day—but I knew it was the right thing to do. I couldn't expect her to still be with me when I left her by herself in District 4; that was just too selfish of me.

I decided instead of taking her to the pier, that I would take her to the place where my mentor Mags had taught me how to swim. It was a small, saltwater lake isolated from the rest of the district by a small pair of knolling green, sandy hills. There was a small patch of grass by the deep pool that would be perfect for a picnic, though in the circumstance I'd been hoping for a nicer place. That would just have to do.

I kept my hands over Annie's eyes as I held her out in front of me, carefully guiding her to the shore so her bare feet would feel the cold water lapping over her toes. "Where are we going?" she asked excitedly, reaching out with her hands to ward off anything that could be in front of her—not that I would willingly walk her anywhere she might get hurt.

"Just wait a little bit," I called out to her, steering her around a palm tree. "We're almost there." I gently pushed her forwards, stopping momentarily to nudge a small pebble with the heel of my foot so she wouldn't trip on it. Then she finally arrived at the shore, and gasped with delight once the cool water reached her bare feet.

I removed my hands from her eyes, and she looked down happily, covering her mouth with her own hands. She kicked up the water with her little toes, reaching down to soak her hands. When she drew them out of the pool and turned to me, I reached her hands, only to realize they were now as cold as the water itself. "Annie…I have something I have to tell you."

The laughter faded from her eyes as I sat her on one of the two large, smooth rocks. I held her hands in both of mine, but as I continued to tell her of what would happen she withdrew hers into herself, resting on her lap over her fishing pants that she was wearing that day. It was a Sunday, and I was probably taking time from her fishing routine, but this was important, and we both knew it.

When I was done, her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head, sobbing, covering her small, full lips with her hand in disbelief. "I can't…Oh, my God," she whispered, trying to stop crying. Finally she uncovered her mouth and ran her fingers through her hair, sobbing uncontrollably. "Finnick, no." She shook her head hysterically, looking right into my eyes. I tried hard to bite back tears; little did she know this was just as heartbreaking for her as it was for me. "No. I'll wait for you. I'll be…when you come back, we'll…" Her lips kept moving but she was gasping for breath, her eyes breaking away from mine.

I stood up, pulling her up with me. I wrapped my arms around her, and she clutched me tightly, as if she feared that Peacekeepers would arrive right at that second to pull me away. My hand brushed her hair ever so lightly, my mouth resting on the top of her head. "I can't ask that from you, Annie," I murmured quietly, kissing into her hair. She sniffed before starting to cry again, into my chest, where her head rested. She shut her eyes fearfully, but didn't say anything else.

Finally we let go of each other. I reached for her hand but she snatched it away, refusing to look me in the eyes. We were a few meters away from the nearest shop, the entry to the town, when she turned to me, taking a deep breath. "Just come by when you're home, okay?" she asked, tenderly caressing my cheek with the back of her hand. She stood on her tiptoes, kissing me lightly one last time, before taking off down to the beach, just in time to help her father haul in the catch of the day.

**Annie**

"Do you hear from him?" asked my father as he passed me another bucketful of worms to stack up on the shelf as bait. It had been almost a month since Finnick and I broke up, just three weeks since he'd gone back to the Capitol for whatever President Snow had planned for him. I knew my dad was just trying to get me to talk, so he could figure out what was going on between me and him, what he was missing out on. The truth was, it still hurt for me to talk about it. "Does he ever write to you?"

I shrugged, wiping my hands on my apron, climbing down the ladder. He gave me a hand as I stepped off the last rail, my leather shoes tapping lightly on the floor as I made my way across the wooden floor. "He wrote once, to say that he wouldn't be allowed to write to me anymore." I lowered my gaze and emptied the pocket of my apron; fishing out a little piece of rope Finnick had given me to remember him by. I recalled the time on the pier when he first taught me to tie a good, hearty knot, followed by countless others. I quickly tied one into a bow, before letting it loose and tying it into something else.

My dad saw the rope in my hands and nodded solemnly before exiting the shop. He knew that whenever I tied the rope, I needed to be by myself. It had been a long time since I'd talked to any of my friends at school, not even Star, who seemed brokenhearted now that my own romance had been broken.

Just as I remembered this, Star walked through the large entrance into the shop, pausing only to knock on the wooden doorframe. "Hey, Annie," she said carefully, clasping her hands behind her as she walked past the bait shelves. She looked younger, somehow, wearing a very pretty dress decorated with a seashell pattern. I didn't bother with a reply; not that she seemed to care, as she went on without much encouragement anyways. "A bunch of us are going to Guppy's boat tonight. He's inviting all the people our age." She pause as she brushed sand off her leather shoes, then stood up straight and looked me in the eyes. "You should come. It will be good for you."

For some reason, though I repeatedly advised myself against it, I found myself on Guppy's boat, arm linked with Star's as I nervously twirled my hair around my finger. I'd forgotten how at ease Star felt when she was around other people, so unlike me. She navigated through the boat effortlessly, floating among the other kids, laughing and saying things when they needed to be said. One of Guppy's older brothers, a boy named Sherman and nicknamed Shark, had snuck in a few bottles of rum, so some of the older kids were getting a bit of a buzz already.

"Annie," Star said, snapping me back to reality. I'd been thinking about Finnick and about his tour around the Capitol while she was talking to an older girl named Blue and her sister Mare. "I'm going to go get some food. Do you want anything?"

I shook my head, withdrawing my arm from hers. She shrugged carelessly and skipped down the deck to where the food was placed. I rubbed my arm self-consciously as I went to stand by the rails, looking out towards the horizon. The moon's reflection shown over the water, and as I looked at it, I wondered if it was nighttime in the Capitol as well. "Good night," I whispered to the salt-scented breeze, carefully untangling a white flower I'd braided into my hair. I dropped it into the sea, and, like every night since Finnick had gone, hoped that he'd be brought back to me soon.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a really slow-moving chapter ****in my opinion****, and for that I apologize. On a partially different note, the next chapter **_**will**_** be rated T or M or whatever—I think T—so if that makes y'all uncomfy, you can just skip over it. **

**Oh and reviews please? Because I feel like I'm talking to myself now when I write…ha-ha!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Finnick**

I'd known Polly for a grand total of fifteen minutes before we were back inside her apartment, near the center of the Capitol itself. She was a 20-year-old woman, with bright purple hair and pale blue skin, wide pink eyes with eyelashes that seemed far too dark in contrast, and an overall good-looking complexion. I wondered, that night and many nights afterwards, if, had I met these girls in District 4 under no obligation to give myself in to them, would I have gone out with them or even kissed them?

I had no choice now as Polly furiously pressed her lips against mine, forcing my mouth open for her. Forget buying her dinner—she'd picked me up at my own apartment near the training center for the Hunger Games, then drove me straight to her house, chattering incessantly about her careless abortions and surgeries. She grabbed my shoulders, pressing me against her body, and ducked her head to nibble on my neck. I rolled my eyes; how could she be so comfortable, so carefree, subjecting me to this different kind of torture from the Capitol?

I groaned when she reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. She stood for a few moments just staring at me hungrily, eyeing my suntanned torso with eyes that just couldn't handle her excitement. "Oh my God," she breathed, "it's just how I imagined it." I tried not to imagine what that meant as she tossed me back onto the bed, her hands desperately clasping mine as she kissed me with more strength than before. She slowly unbuttoned her bright yellow dress, throwing it to the side without much care for aim, before lowering herself to kiss my shoulders, my bare chest, my abdomen.

"Finnick," she said sharply, so suddenly and out of context that I sat up, rigid, frightened. "You're not _doing_ anything. I thought we had an agreement?" And we did. It was just that she was the first person, my first time. I'd been expecting it to be Annie, by the way our relationship had been going before I broke it off. Still, I sighed, knowing Polly was right, and I had to do my part in order for her to reward me. I gently lowered her onto the mattress, positioning myself over her, and kissed her.

It was 3 in the morning when I finally woke up. I sat up, startled for a moment, before remembering where I was. The ridiculously fluffy bed sheets were tangled around our legs, and as I looked over at Polly, she was deeply asleep, her face sporting a slight smile as if she was pleased with herself. I rolled my eyes at the stupidity of Capitol people, before getting up from the bed and getting dressed to leave. Snow's deal had been, I stay with the girl one night only, and leave whenever we're done or whenever I feel like it, after we're done. Polly had been one of, undoubtedly, many customers. It hadn't even been satisfactory.

I pulled on my pants, buckling up my belt, and took the turquoise necklace she left on the bedside table for me. It wasn't much, but then again I was young, inexperienced. I couldn't expect much from her if she didn't get much from me, either. Suddenly I was hit by a pang of guilt as I pocketed the jewelry. _This, I'll give to Annie,_ I decide, climbing into the taxicab.

It sped down the main road, until it reaches President Snow's mansion. Before I took a single step off the car, a vast camera crew, including a very pretty Capitol reporter with artificially bright yellow hair and natural, olive-tone skin, surrounded the vehicle. As I shut the door behind me, I could just hear the reporter introducing herself. Her name apparently was Delia, or Delilah, or something of the sort.

"Here is our District 4 Victor of the 65th Hunger Games!" she yelled cheerfully at the camera, her voice looping and sliding with her obvious Capitol accent. She turned to look at me, then slid an arm around my shoulders as if showing me off to the rest of Panem as exclusively _hers_. "So, Mr. Odair," she purred, leaning on me. "Do you have someone…_special_ in your life?" The way she batted her eyelashes provocatively, it was obvious she was at least expecting a no.

I was about to mumble the correct answer—yes, her name is Annie, she lives in District 4, I miss her more than anything—but out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a slight shift in one of the curtains in the windows. And I immediately knew who it is. And what he was expecting me to say.

So instead of being honest like I should, like I wanted to—like _she_ deserves—I shook my head. She scoffed in disbelief, beginning a rant about how I am far too handsome to not have some pretty girl hanging onto my arm. Then she took note of my hand, in my pocket clutching the beautiful necklace. Of course, she didn't know what it is until she asked me to show it to her. She gasped in delight once she saw what it is, and she asked me, if I have no girl in my life, whom is this for?

**Annie**

I tried not to let my emotions register on my face as Star eyed me suspiciously after Finnick's god-awful _revelation_. She hastily grabbed the remote—freshly developed in Three—and rewound. There he is, with his sheepish smile, as he slowly loops the necklace around that reporter's neck. She squeals in excitement and plants a loud, far too sloppy kiss on his cheek gratefully. _That should be me!_ was all I could think—but of course, I didn't show this to Star. Instead, I stared blankly at the television, my face completely devoid of giveaway tears.

"Annie, I…" Star began, but her voice trailed off as she took in my vacant eyes. Instead, she wordlessly reached across to my side of the sofa, pulling me into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Annie."

"Don't be," I muttered, my mouth completely and utterly dry. Honestly, I was trying really hard not to feel bad for myself. He'd broken off our relationship anyways, so why was I so hurt? He was free to go kissing Capitol girls left and right, giving them gorgeous pieces of expensive jewelry. For what, I don't know. He didn't even know that reporter! Why did he give it to her, then? And why had he hesitated beforehand?

I was still trying to piece these together when Mrs. Reef—Star's mother—walked into their living room, holding a tray of fresh crab cakes. She was one of the most talented cooks in District 4, at least in our sector, as she was always the one to call for a victor's dinner, or a fancy, expensive party or gathering with a large budget. Of course, my family and I could never afford this type of luxury. Oftentimes, we were our own providers, handing out fresh fish. Usually Ramona, a close friend of my mother's, would help us with the cooking, as neither my father nor I knew anything of the business. All we were good for was capturing the raw materials; it was her who really did all the work. Before, it had been my mother for a while.

"I hope you girls are hungry!" chirped up Mrs. Reef, setting the silver tray with a clatter onto the tea table before us. She reached for the remote, and went to turn off the set, only to see Finnick's frozen face on the screen. "My, my, my. Is that the Odair boy from the 65th Games?"

I nodded silently as Star shot her mother what I'm guessing was a threatening look to stop speaking of the matter. Mrs. Reef picked up on the hint and left the living room hastily, not even bothering to come back for drinks. No matter; the crab cakes were more than enough for me.

"Sorry about that," Star told me affectionately, shutting off the television once and for all. She licked her lips and reached over for a biscuit, which she waited for me to grab my own to bite into. We sat in silence, chewing on our food, until she finally turned to me and asked the question that I'd been dreading. "Do you still like him?"

"Of course," I murmured, avoiding her eyes. I was keeping my end of the promise, even if he'd already forgotten his. I was going to wait for him, no matter what. I would not be able to love anyone else until he returned. That, naturally, would be the deciding factor. Did he still love me? No? Then I could forget about him, just as I'd forgotten about any other boy in the past, and move on. Yes? Then I loved him too, and we could start a family, living rich off the earnings from his Victory.

"This must be hell for you," she mused in a low voice, shaking her head sympathetically. That was exactly what I'd been trying to avoid. I didn't need glances that felt sorry for me, didn't need anyone pitying me. I was doing a fine job of that myself. What I needed was someone that would tell me that everything is going to be alright, someone that could just hold me and make me feel better.

Of course, my support group—my parents—were gone. My mother was long since gone, but my father's absence…well, that, I was still getting used to. It hadn't been that long since he'd passed away in his sleep. Overexertion is what the doctors had said. Some of them, at least. Heart failure, low blood pressure, even lung disease. Nobody could be sure, because I hadn't been able to take him to a good medic. He'd been treated by the locals, who knew about as much about medicine than I did about technology.

"Honestly, Annie—" she began, and was promptly cut off by a knock on the door. We heard Mrs. Reef's light steps across the floorboards as she went to open the door, and were about to resume our conversation, until we heard an official male voice, accented slightly with the Capitol's affections, speak up.

"Is Annie Cresta in this household?" asked the man, peeping into the house. Star and I could just make out a pale complexion, another sign that this man was not from the district. I saw Mrs. Reef nod nervously and turn inside, long enough for the man to sidestep her and walk into the house. He didn't say anything; instead he held out a fancy white envelope that smelled faintly of flowers. It had the Capitol seal on the corner of it, which immediately set me on edge. He left just as quickly as he arrived, and I tried to feign nonchalance as I opened the envelope.

Roses. The letter smelled like roses.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am officially giving you guys the right to despise me for not updating at ALL in a billion years, and I am so sorry! But if while you wait, you want to read something of mine, check out (from my profile I guess) **_**The Only Life Worth Saving**_** [completed] or **_**Facing the Ashes **_**[in progress]. **

**Thank you to my reviewers that have not given up on this story (I hope!) and I'll be updating next weekend, latest. **


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ugh, I HATE it when other people do this—write a chapter entirely out of an author's note. But I am literally in between fanfics (**_**The Waves Creep Up on the Shore**_** and **_**Facing the Ashes**_**) and I really need to finish one first to focus on the other one.**

**Since I know most people (or at least, I) always ignore polls on profiles, I decided to post here. Don't review for this unless you're anonymous, send me a private message telling me which one I should finish **_**first**_**. (That's not to say I won't work on both, I just won't update as often for one than the other.) **

**Thank you for your input, and I PROMISE that the next chapter won't be crappy like this one. After a few people have PM'd me, I'll have the results and will post on my profile which one will be done first. Thanks again!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Finnick**

"Have a seat, Mr. Odair."

I tried not to show my anxiety at being summoned personally to President Snow's headquarters—a vast greenhouse filled with roses of every size and color, yet all with the same intoxicating odor—as the Peacekeeper led me to the desk in the end, where President Snow occupied the other, larger, white chair. Tremulously, I sat in the uncomfortable chair across from him, sitting on my hands to stop their quivering. Hadn't I done everything right? How many times per week had I been forced to do some ungodly favor to a desperate Capitol citizen, only now to realize he still expects something from me?

"Finnick!" Snow exclaimed cheerfully, as if we were the best of friends. He reached across the table to give me a goodhearted tap on the back, from which I recoiled. He noticed this with raised eyebrows and a quick laugh before settling back down into his seat comfortably. "How good to see you, my favorite victor!" _Maybe you'd have more favorites if you didn't kill all of them,_ I thought scornfully, eyeing him with disdain. "How is everything back home?"

"I wouldn't know, sir," I said robotically, almost reverently. I had to watch my words around him, yet I wanted him to know my intentions. _I wouldn't know, sir. You haven't let me visit in the past four years, sir._

"Good, good," he continued, as if he hadn't even heard my vague complaint. He reached over and plucked a lovely pink rose from a nearby bush. He twirled it in between his thumb and forefinger, before finally setting it aside. He gestured at an Avox standing by, holding a silver tray with two wineglasses. "Melancy, please bring that over. Can't you see that this gentleman and I are parched?"

The girl bowed her head as she walked over, positioning the tray in the center of the table. He took one of the wineglasses and let the wine shift around inside, then put it by his elbow. I stared at my wineglass blankly, unwilling to take it. Not until he'd had a sip. It was probably considered impolite to drink before the host.

"So, Finnick," he said endearingly, folding his hands together before him, "tell me, how are you faring? Are you enjoying your time here in the Capitol?" I nodded, biting back my tongue. No, I wasn't enjoying my time here in the Capitol. All my sightseeing consisted of bright walls, messy bed sheets, and cars transporting me from one house to the next. He saw this, somehow, in my eyes, and pursed his lips together, taking me in. "You're quite expensive, you know? Our best-looking victor, we can't just give you away that easily. Now, I understand _you're_ keeping your end of the bargain, yes?"

I nodded faintly, but all that was on in my mind was the horrible smell. It was the roses, of course, mixed with something else…It was like he was exhaling it into my face. Surely his natural breath wasn't that strong? "Yes…yes, sir," I managed to mutter, giving my head a little shake to clear it.

He smiled and nodded. "Fantastic to hear that from you, boy." Then he paused, as if unsure of whether or not he should go on. "Sadly, not all your customers are as satisfied by your work as you seem to be. I'd hate to think that you're losing your popularity simply because you cannot keep up with demand."

I let my eyes glance up at his, and I saw a certain snakelike coldness within them, as if he couldn't wait to kill me already. "What—what are you insinuating, sir?" I asked timidly. I didn't care what he would do to me if I didn't 'keep up with demand', he'd already forced me to kill children in the past. But attacking the ones I care about, back home? My great-grandmother and only living family member? I knew he wasn't above that.

He grinned at me, as if pleased with the fact that I'd finally realized what he was getting to. By the stricken look on my face, he could probably tell that I'd figured out the target of his threats. "All I am saying is, you could do without so many distractions. The women in the Capitol, they are lovely and rich, most of them. I would hate for you to be a disappointment to all their expectations."

My eyes narrowed as I understood what he meant. I would have to strive for utter perfection if I was to earn my keep. I shook my head, angry at his comment. I'd already sold myself to protect my family, now this monster wished more from me? "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm already doing all I can."

He nodded, as if he comprehended my feelings and thought them completely acceptable. "Fair enough." He took his wineglass and drank from it, coughing slightly. I could see his eyes beginning to water, but otherwise there was no noticeable reaction on his part. He pointed at my own wineglass. "Why don't you have a bit of wine, as we speak?"

I obliged, not in the mood to challenge him any further. Just as I put the rim to my lips, my nose caught an odd odor, this time coming from the wine itself. I hesitated and closed my eyes, inhaling more deeply. I opened my eyes and looked at him, and if his eyes were unforgiving before, then there were no words to describe his look then. The fact that I knew what was going on was almost palpable in the air, and so I spoke it.

"Tracker-jacker blood, sir?" I asked, setting the glass down by me. "Almost indistinguishable from wine, with a taste similar to alcohol. Only a slight giveaway smell is what betrays it. It usually smells just like honey, and I don't think they make wine with honey anymore?" I tried not to grin at his befuddled expression.

Still, somehow his grin only widened. "No, they do not," he said. "Clever boy, you are."

I smiled now at his reaction—surely he wasn't expecting me to figure it out. "It's a deadly poison," I told him, as if he didn't already know. "You'll have to find another way to get to me sir."

He narrowed his eyes dangerously, his red tongue flickering over his lips. Was it just me, or was there a hint of red on it? It could be the wine, or…or _blood_…"That, I will," he confessed, standing up. His hand lingered over the rose. "Alright, you're done here." He paused, as if he knew I didn't understand what he just said. "You are dismissed." I stood up and turned, ready to walk down the rows and rows of roses. Just before I reached the exit, though, his voice stopped me.

"Oh, and take a rose when you go back to Four for the reaping. Give her my best."

It was enough to send chills down my spine, and clench my jaw. Somehow, he found out about Annie. And by the way he told me that, I could tell he wasn't exactly ready to embrace her relationship with me. "What are you going to do?" I asked coldly, my voice dropping several octaves gravely.

He barely hesitated in his reply.

"Whatever I must."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is probably around half the length of the others, but now I'm changing my style to the one I adopted in my other fanfic. That is, one POV per chapter, meaning next chapter will be all Annie. **

**Anyways thank you all so much for reviewing and for giving me your votes and opinions about which fanfiction I should finish first. I am so, so sorry to say that IT IS A TIE. I was completely awestruck when I realized this! For better or worse, I will be updating equally for both stories! **

**Now for the sad news. I won't be updating as often because this week is review week, and the week after that is exam week. Then I'll be going to a summer camp (Georgetown, anyone?) for a month so, unless they have free wi-fi (which I am just **_**praying**_** that they do), I'll only be writing. But don't worry, I'll try to update as soon as possible! Thank you, and I love you all!**

**-TGBW**


	7. Chapter 6

**Annie**

_One more year,_ I told myself mentally as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. _Just this year, and next year, and you're done._ I was seventeen that year, and almost free of the reaping entirely. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for Star, my best friend who'd been reaped two years ago.

I sighed as I remembered her, shuddering subconsciously while I washed my face. My dress was out on my bed, a bright blue sundress that had cost me almost the entire year's earnings. The tailor, Aqua, had asked me why I would bother wasting so much money on a reaping dress. With a smile and a mischievous wink, I had told her that I wanted to look pretty for Finnick.

_Okay,_ I thought, brushing through my hair with my thin fingers, _it's not like I lied._ I'd heard rumors that Finnick Odair would finally be flying in from the Capitol to greet the tributes that year. Honestly, I was more nervous about seeing him again than I was about getting reaped. Because I'd never made it a habit to sign up for tesserae—resulting in undesirably sharp features and prominent ribs—I had next to no chance of getting reaped. Even if I did, victors in Four are so immensely glorified, so ridiculously celebrated, it would be likely to find a volunteer willing to take my place. I wove a water lily into my curls, then let my hair fall around my shoulders. I hadn't bothered to look this pretty in so long, I'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

Since Finnick had completely vanished off the face of our district, I'd made it a point not to get close to any guy. Not just because of the promise I made to myself, as well as to Finnick, but also because I wasn't ready. I was too young, obviously, and too immature. Whereas other girls felt at home doing each other's hair, dressing each other up, and gossiping for hours on end about the smallest of details, I was more comfortable casting fishing nets off of the pier and hauling my catch over the edge to trade later on in the afternoons. While girls wore skirts and dresses on a daily basis, and discussed marriage with their mothers, I was better off in my fishing overalls, my father's lucky fishing hat, as I haggled over every last cent at the fish market.

That would all change that day; I'd decided when I woke up. Thankfully, because I was always one of the best fishers in our part of town, the Peacekeepers let me stay in my father's shack near the beach, instead of sending me to those awful houses for orphans. It was isolated, but relatively closer to the town square—where it all happened—than some houses in the other part of town. I slipped into some hand-woven shoes, courtesy of Star's mother, and took one last look in the mirror, before walking outside.

I was only a kilometer away from the town square when I realized, I had no right of being so excited to see Finnick. Not only had he completely betrayed me in the Capitol, he'd even had the audacity to write a single letter to me, after years of no proof he was still alive, to tell me he'd found someone else! _Well, not some_one, I thought bitterly, biting my bottom lip to ward off telltale tears. _More like somethree, or somefive, or sometwelve…_ He'd told me everything in the letter, although it barely sounded like something he would write. Of course, he was probably so busy with his girlfriends, that he'd gotten some Capitol goon to write the letter for him.

_That bastard,_ I cursed, then smiled faintly at what my grandfather would call _sailor's mouth_. I bent down to pick up a stray bit of sea glass, which I stuck in the pocket of my dress, before continuing along up to the square. I could already see people—nervous teenagers, anxious parents, eager bidders—starting to assemble, and our escort Delphi stood, excited as ever, at the podium, vigorously shaking the glass ball containing all our names. I rolled my eyes as I took my place among the other girls. I could just barely hear snippets of conversations, and realized I wasn't the only one trying to look pretty that day.

"I heard he's finally back."

"Does this dress make me look fat? He'll never look at me if I'm fat."

"Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Yes, but he's no Finnick."

"I hear he's always with a different girl."

"I wouldn't mind being his girlfriend for one night."

Disgusted, I clamped my hands over my ears. It was _my_ boyfriend they were talking about! Yes, he'd become a notorious Capitol lover in a matter of months, but I knew he couldn't have changed in his heart. Somewhere, deep inside that entire blunt sex-god exterior, was the Finnick I'd known and loved—still loved. They couldn't be talking about him like that!

A hush fell over the crowd. Three guesses why. I turned to look at the stage, where, sure enough, Finnick was striding across to his chair. He looked shaken, nervous even, and his hair—so messy, natural, still a lovely color bronze—gave the impression that he hadn't slept well. It was probably the first time in a long time he was at a live reaping. I attributed his attitude to this.

During the mayor's everlasting speech about the famous Treaty of Treason, I was dazed by the way Finnick's gaze kept flickering over to me. Every time our eyes met, he turned away abruptly. I was internally conflicted; did I still love him or not? He'd been with so many girls in the Capitol, hundreds, many that I hadn't even heard of! What did it matter if I was in love with him or not? He had so many potential prospects, I was no longer up to his expectations, I guessed. But still, I didn't know if I was angry or relieved or lovesick or…or what? I was all those things. Angry, he'd traded me in for girl after girl after girl. Relieved, he was back. Lovesick, it was…well…it's Finnick Odair.

"The waves are high," Delphi piped up in her nasal voice, "as are the spirits. This has the making to be an unforgettable pair of tributes!"

"We cannot _wait_ to see who they shall be!" a girl next to me groaned under her breath. I suppressed a smile; Delphi sure did know how to stick to her script.

"Without further a_do_," Delphi continued, unbroken, not taking notice of everyone mimicking her frustrating accent and her permanent dialogue, "I present to you the tributes of the Seventieth Hunger _Games_!" There was polite clapping from the side of the stage, where Finnick, his mentor partner Glacier, and the mayor were sitting. Delphi strutted confidently over to the glass ball, her sea-green hair flowing behind her. She gave us a cheeky, pearly white grin, before digging through the ball. Unlike other districts, we always began with the boys, if only to begin the reaping with a little excitement—since we usually had a wave of volunteers for him.

She clawed around for a bit before finally pulling out a small white slip of paper. She held it up, squinting into the bright sunlight (it's her own fault if she wanted the reaping to be at sunrise) as she struggled to read the name. "Sander Tide," she read triumphantly. I looked around, expecting to see a well-tanned, muscular teenage boy. Instead, out came a young thirteen-year-old, with pale skin, looking kind of weak and fragile. He normally wouldn't have affected me that much—I saw boy after boy get reaped every year—except for his eyes. Sea green, just like Finnick's. The resemblance was so strong I could barely hide my very audible gasp.

I watched with a pained expression on my face as Sander made his way up to the podium. For a moment, I felt like everything had frozen in time, like everything had just stopped. That's when I noticed the silence.

Where normally there would've been a crowd of boys volunteering for his place in the Games, now there was nothing but the salty breeze blowing past. I could tell Sander hadn't been expecting that, either, by the way he looked around frantically, willing someone to stand up for him, to alleviate him from this impending nightmare of his.

Finally, Delphi broke the silence as her heels clattered across the stage to lead Sander to an extra chair. "Well, well, Mr. Tide. What an honor, isn't it? To be chosen to represent your district!" She didn't pause to let him speak; instead she walked on, over to the glass ball containing the girls' names. Once again, she repeated the process digging through the glass ball, as if it made it different and she wasn't actually sending a girl to her doom. She finally pulled out a folded piece of paper, and once again, shielded her eyes from the light. When she read the name, at first it didn't process in my mind. It wasn't until a Peacekeeper nudged me with his gun, that I realized the horror of the situation.

_Oh. That's me._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys, sorry for updating so late in the weekend! I've been studying nonstop for my Social Studies exam on Tuesday (ugh) so I only had time to update this story. (Meaning if you read **_**Facing the Ashes**_**, I haven't updated at all this weekend.) Anyways, I'm almost out of school, meaning many more updates and more frequently!**

**As always, thanks so much to my reviewers, I love you all and wish I could send you guys flying bunnies made out of chocolate for reading my story! Love you all! **

**-TGBW**


	8. Chapter 7

**Finnick**

I sat, helplessly, in the chair, watching as Annie made her way up the wooden stairs. She seemed as out of it as I felt, maybe even more so. Inside my mind, my whole world was thrown into a hurricane as I scrambled to fit together the pieces of the puzzle. _Annie Cresta_, my mind echoed, transforming Delphi's squeaky voice into a more snake-like hiss. My mouth hung open, my eyes refusing to blink. Annie didn't meet my gaze once in the entire time she was being celebrated by the escort and the mayor. In fact, she made no effort to interact with me until we were safely locked away inside the Justice Building, as she had very few last visitors.

"Annie!" I called, racing to catch up with her. She was quicker than I, though, and managed to shut the door moments before I would've been able to stick my foot in the way. I pounded on the door, ignoring the confused looks that the Peacekeepers threw my way. "Annie, open up! I need to talk to you!"

Something hard hit the door, seemingly bouncing right off. Then a duller sound, followed by a crunch—had she tried to punch the door?—ensued. "Go away! I don't want to talk to you right now!" she cried in a hoarse voice that gave away her tears. She sniffled loudly before her footsteps faded away.

"An—goddamn!" I yelled, frustrated by then. I looked around for a second, my eyes finally landing on a loose bolt. With the knowledge of my great grandmother, I bent it until it was thin enough to fit in the lock. Then I fumbled around for a few seconds before finally popping the door open.

Annie was in tears sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her whole body was shaking in sync with her sobs, and my stomach clenched together as I realized that she'd be going through the same kind of torture as I would. I walked around the bed so I could see her, and never in my life had I seen someone so depressed, so scarred, so…hopeless.

"Annie," I murmured as softly as I could, gently brushing aside her long dark curls from her face. If I hadn't been so preoccupied by her crying, I would've been able to notice that she looked stunning, even during the reaping. She shut her eyes tightly, sniffing, as tears continued to pour steadily down her cheeks. "It'll all be al—"

"_NO!_" she screamed so loudly that I froze momentarily, completely surprised by her outburst. "I'm going to—_hic_—DIE—_hic_—in less than—_hic_—TWO WEEKS! I'M _NOT_ GOING TO CALM DOWN, FINNICK!"

I raised my eyebrows as she continued shrieking about her fate, all the while trying to keep my cool. What use would I have been to her, if I started shouting as well? We'd both be escorted to the Capitol asylums for insane people, for sure! Instead, I looked up at the ceiling, which had been painted to resemble the blue skies of District 4, as she blew off some steam. Finally, when I doubted she had any energy left for more than silent tears, I muttered, "I know this is stressful, Annie, but I want to help you survive. And, unfortunately, I can't do that if you're not willing to help."

"Not willing to—" she began indignantly, insulted by the implication that I would have to work towards her survival on my own. I interrupted her smoothly.

"Listen, we can't talk here, it's bugged, but as soon as we get on the train, you and I will definitely have a little conversation," I said as low as possible, "and devise a strategy for winning. Alright?"

She raised an eyebrow at me, finally opening her eyes. They were bloodshot, but still maintained the innocence behind their sea-greenness. "You're supposed to be helping Sander," she answered flatly, even unimpressed at my attempt of favoring her. "Don't pick me just because you're…" She stopped herself, looking aghast, as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her gaze drifted from myself to some point far in the other side of the room, eyes widened in horror. Luckily I could tell where she was headed.

"Just because I'm in love with you?" I finished for her. "Because I am, Annie!"

She sat up, undoubtedly surprised. "_What?_" she asked, stabbing my gut with a fresh new pang of guilt. Instantly, I recalled those long, cold, distant months, in which I'd been forbidden to form any sort of emotional attachment with anybody, even those I cared about. I was no longer allowed to write to Four, for any purposes, without the consent of President Snow after he'd gone through my letters. In fact, he'd told me that, since I didn't seen capable of doing so myself, he'd taken the liberty of writing Annie a goodbye letter on my behalf.

Suddenly, it was as if someone took a huge bucket of ice cold water and splashed it on my head, and I was awakened, for the first time, to what was really going on. "Hold that thought," I told her monotonously, getting up and walking away from her bed.

Two Peacekeepers intercepted me in the hallway, ordering me to return to my assigned chamber in the mansion, but I pushed them aside as easily as if they were palm tree leaves blocking my way. I took long strides towards the main hall, eventually breaking into a jog—then a sprint—as if I couldn't stand to be so far away from the source of the problem. Finally I came upon two distinct golden doors, with the seal of Panem engraved on them, half on each one. I pushed through them, not even caring to knock, or check if there's anyone waiting behind them.

Bewildered, Delphi stopped talking midsentence to Mayor Bartholomew, who looked at me with scorn. They seemed to have been engaged in a heated argument about something, and evidently, the mayor wasn't making as strong a case as Delphi. "Finnick," Delphi said endearingly, in a falsetto voice just barely giving away her distress, "I thought you were supposed to wait for further instructions _inside your room_."

I ignored her, instead rushing to the end of the hall. I could faintly hear the mayor calling for security—but I didn't care. I had to reach the glass ball before they took me away, I just had to!

I reached into the first one I found, grabbing a fistful of paper slips with names on them. _Guston Crabbley, Elliott Mercer…_ The list went on as I, becoming increasingly frustrated, dropped all of the papers back into the bowl. Obviously that wasn't the one I was looking for. In the back of my mind, I heard Peacekeepers running towards me, almost having reached me. I pushed the glass aside, not even caring that it shattered at my feet, bouncing off and barely scratching me. I had to reach the second reaping bowl before they reached me.

With hands shaking in rage, I stepped before the girls' bowl, slowly dipping in my hands and letting my fists grab as many papers as I could. A layer of sweat had amounted on my hairline, but I hardly cared about appearances in that moment. All I cared about were the slips of paper, dampening under my sweaty grab. Two Peacekeepers seized my arms, forcing me to let go of the slips, but not before I could glimpse at them.

Each one of them, in bold so I couldn't miss any paper's mark, with the name _**ANNIE CRESTA**_ printed on them.


	9. Author's Note II

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I know, I know, I know, bad goofybookworm! I have been ignoring this website for like two months! BUT I HAVE MY REASON.**

**In English class, we were all forced to participate in NaNoWriMo. The good news is, I am one of the few that actually like writing, and so I managed to get a total of 50,083 words, meaning I will most likely receive 5 printed copies! (: The bad news is, I have been thoroughly neglecting everything else, including my fanfictions. I will try as hard as possible to have one new chapter out for ****_each_**** story before Christmas, but I make no promises!**

**Thank you for your reviews, I love you all so much! You keep me smiling (: **

**Love you guys! **

**-TGBW**


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